


Smile! It Has Ended

by bibliomaniac



Series: Happiness is a Light in the Dark [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: 'cause this is NOT going to be good for you, Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Psychological Horror, Psychological Trauma, a bunch of that on all ends, please do not read this if you are sensitive to psych horror or psych trauma, this is just as fucked up if not more fucked up than the last one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 08:20:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14209047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliomaniac/pseuds/bibliomaniac
Summary: Lucretia knows three things. She will hold onto them no matter what.(aka the continuation of the last Light of Creation hit, except maybe worse? blame eden)





	Smile! It Has Ended

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ToTillAGarden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToTillAGarden/gifts).



> please, please mind the warnings here! this is very psych horror and it references past multiple suicides and sort-of murders and it's not at all nice about it.
> 
> also happy birthday eden! i hope you're happy you brought this into the world. that was sarcastic, but i am definitely happy you were brought into this world, because you're a gift!

Lucretia knows the following:

First, her name is Lucretia.

Second, her friends are dead.

Third, it’s her fault.

She holds onto these things like it will keep her afloat, even though she also knows she drowned so long ago that she barely remembers what it was like to not choke whenever she breathes.

Sometimes she jumps immediately. Sometimes she goes for something sharp just to see the Light give a childish, displeased frown on the faces that she barely associates with her friends anymore before everything fuzzes and goes dark for a moment.

(Those few moments before she is ripped back into existence are always her favorite. There is so much nothing.)

But sometimes, on cycles like this—and she has no idea how many it’s been by now, but surely thousands—she is just so tired, so done, so _bored_ with killing herself, that she stays for a while. She stares dully at the Light shining bright through six pairs of eyes, then walks to the place that was once her room and shuts the door.

That’s sort of the nice thing about the Light being in a body, is it can’t go through doors. It just waits outside patiently for her to wake. The Light is nothing if not patient.

Sleep is almost like nothing, and she sighs when she wakes up. Not much—she doesn’t make much noise these days—but just a little exhale, a little punched-out noise that says, _right, this again._

And it _is_ this again, and again and again and again.

She opens the door when she can’t really bear being inside anymore—she does still have to eat, even though she doesn’t enjoy it—and walks silently past the six bodies crowded outside her door.

“Good morning,” the Light says through Merle. “We made you lingonberry crepes. I know they’re your favorite.”

“I’m not eating them. Fuck you,” she says, in a voice that is not rusty from disuse solely because the body is new. She does not need to look at them to know that they are frowning, or that it only lasts for a moment until they are smiling again. She’s seen it enough times.

When she gets to the kitchen, there is a mess everywhere, and she takes a moment to look at it before going to the icebox anyway. The Light doesn’t usually cook. It can make anything it wants by willing it into existence. It doesn’t bother putting components together first.

Odd. But she’s long since lost the capacity for curiosity.

She finds in the icebox a wide selection of fruit, all ones she loves. She rustles past them until she finds a nectarine, idly contemplating whether she could make herself a shiv out of the pit; it’s been long enough now that the Light has probably gotten rid of the sharp objects around the Starblaster. It doesn’t matter, really, in the end, but she sort of would like to bleed this time around. She hasn’t for a cycle or ten. 

“Lucretia,” the Light says through Magnus as she stares at the nectarine, “No,” and the nectarine is taken from her, and when it is given back it is neatly sliced and the pit is gone. She flicks her eyes up to it, then eats. Whatever. She can jump again. Maybe she can even take a few of them with her.

(She’s killed them enough times now that it doesn’t really even register. They’re just bodies. They look like the people who might have once been her family did, but they’re just bodies. The Light can always make more of them. Always does, too.)

When she finishes eating the fruit, wiping the juice on her slacks with another small sigh, she looks up again to see all of them watching her. Their eyes shine bright, and the Light in Davenport murmurs “What are we going to do with you,” and she feels a sudden flash of anger.

“You’ve already done _everything,_ ” she hisses, rising to her feet. “What more can you do? What more can you do to me? You’ve done everything! You’ve won! Why won’t you just let me _die?_ ”

“Lucretia,” they begin, several at once, and the anger flares even brighter, and with a lazy wave of her hand she conjures a shield around the Davenport’s head and watches as he gasps and turns purple. It is just a body. Bodies do that when they can’t breathe. She would know.

The shield comes down as she is pinned to the ground—the Magnus body, probably—and she hears the Taako body yelling, “I knew it, I knew she wouldn’t be ready yet— _fuck_ , somebody cast Feeblemind again—” 

Over him, the Lup yells even louder, “We thought maybe—fuck, Merle, help Davenport! She crushed his trachea—”

The Barry, too soft. “Lucretia, we swear we’re going to fix this. I know whatever happened to you messed you up, but—we’re back now, we have been for a year, and—we miss you—”

It’s doing a remarkably good impression of her friends. She watches the Light shine off their tears, and she watches Barry raise his hand to her and say something, and then her mind starts to slip away, and desperately she clings to what she knows.

Her name is Lucretia. 

Her friends are dead.

It’s her fault.

Her name is Lucretia.

Her friends are dead. 

It’s her fault.

Her name is…Lucretia? 

Her friends…are…

It’s her fault.

Her name is…she’s…it’s her fault.

And then, as the spell fully sets in, she doesn’t know anything anymore, and she smiles brightly to see her friends around her, and she is finally, blissfully happy.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, and sorry. my tumblr is [anuninterestingperson](http://anuninterestingperson.tumblr.com) if you want to yell at me for this! but be gentle, this isn't technically ALL my fault. also, check out [eden's work](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToTillAGarden/pseuds/ToTillAGarden)! she's a phenomenal writer and person!


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